Psychiatric Help, Only Five Cents
by FalalalaLa
Summary: Arthur Kirkland just wanted to get away for a while, not talk to some absurd boy claiming that he could fix his problems for only five cents!


"Just what the bloody hell do they think they are?" Arthur Kirkland yelled angrily, walking down the sidewalk of his neighborhood. His hands were stuffed into his beige shorts, hunched over slightly in his green sweater vest. Every few feet he would kick a nearby pebble with his brown shoes, trying to find a way to relieve his anger.

After a more power kick to another rock, Arthur ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Just because I am ten years old, it doesn't mean that I can't understand! Stupid brothers!"

Continuing down the path, the young English boy huffed about, his emerald green eyes staying firmly attached to the ground. Compared to his mood, the weather was considered perfect for the summer season. It was a bright day, casting a soft glow on the different colored houses Arthur passed by without a glance to any of them. He was too deep in thought that he didn't notice the small, wooden makeshift desk near the corner of the street, sitting right next to the sidewalk. It was perched in front of a small, light yellow house with red and blue flowers covering the front with the American flag proudly waving from a pole on the side. He had begun to pass it when a voice called out to him.

"Hey! It looks like you need some help!"

Arthur shrieked as he took a step back, placing his right hand over his heart. He took notice of the wooden desk and scanned over it with wide eyes. Written right on it with a black marker was _"The doctor is"_ and a paper was taped next to it with the word, _"in"._ At the top there was a sign, _"Psychiatric Help, 5 cents"_ written with the same marker, connecting to the desk through two somewhat thin poles on the side. A small, regular jar with the lid on the side sat on top of the desk, empty.

There were two chairs; one right next to the desk and one behind. Sitting in the chair behind the desk was a boy that looked to be about Arthur's age. He sat with his legs crossed, smiling every so brightly at him. He had dark blonde hair with a strand curling up and bright sky blue eyes. A Captain America shirt and blue shorts covered his body, along with white socks and sneakers. There were a few dirt marks here and there from probably playing around his yard. Arthur wasn't too sure of this kid. The boy looked at him strangely before asking a question with a slight southern accent.

"I haven't seen you around here before… I bet you are the one that just moved in down the street! Well, I can help ya, for five cents!" He said, picking up the jar and nearly shoving it in the other's face. Arthur rolled his eyes and tried to slap away the hand.

"Who said I needed help? Besides, I don't want to waste my money on something as silly as this."

"But you look sad and I want to help!" The boy sat up more and placed his jar back down on the table. He leaned over the desk and pointed at the sign above him. "And it's only five cents. What have you got to lose? I'm sure I can help you with whatever problem you have! I am a hero, after all!"

The sheer generosity and honesty of this boy sickened Arthur. He was much too naïve, calling himself a hero and proclaiming he could fix any problem without knowing what it was. Just absurd! What did he know about other people's problems?

But… as Arthur mulled over this, he figured he really didn't have anything to lose. And who knows, maybe this boy _could_ help.

Sighing and wondering if he was doing the right thing, Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny nickel, tossing it into the jar. The boy, not expecting Arthur to have actually paid him and listened to him, jumped for joy and grabbed the jar, closing it with the lid. He gave it a good shake, laughed, and then shook it once more.

"Ah, the sound of money! There is no other sound in the world like this!"

Arthur only looked on, his hope in this boy decreasing. He _couldn't_ be serious. Yet it seemed to be true as the strange lad continued shaking it up and down, jumping for joy, and rubbing his face all over the jar. After a minute he stopped and placed the jar back down in its spot.

"Well!" The boy sat down and motioned for Arthur to take the seat next to him. Arthur gladly took the seat as the boy continued to talk. "My first customer! It's nice to meet 'cha! My name is Alfred! Alfred F. Jones!"

"Pleased to meet you as well. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He responded back politely.

Alfred gave a smirk. "Artie, huh?"

"… No, it's Arthur. Please don't call me that, it's a silly nickname-"

"Artie it is!"

Arthur sighed. Just_… fantastic._

"So, first we begin by you telling me what exactly is wrong. The whole story, truth and all, in the name of justice! Do you swear?"

Alfred looked expectantly at Arthur, holding up his right hand. Arthur only gave him an outlandish look before raising up his own hand. "Yes yes, I swear to it, you git." Alfred nodded and pulled out a sheet of lined paper from underneath the desk along with a few colored crayons. He chose a red one and looked back at Arthur, waiting for him to commence.

"Well…" Arthur closed his eyes and leaned back a little, crossing his arms. "To start off with, my brothers are jerks."

Alfred nodded, writing something down. "Mm. Go on. Why are your brothers jerks?"

Arthur angrily replied back. "They're so mean! I have three older brothers who think they own the world, those gits! They tease me, call me names, throw rocks and sticks at me, and laugh at my eyebrows-"

"They are huge." Alfred stated, pointing at them.

Arthur glared at him. "They are perfectly normal, thank you! And who asked for your opinion?"

"You did!" Alfred laughed a bit, making Arthur feel self-conscious once again about his eyebrows. When Alfred went back to write something down on his paper, he noticed that Arthur had been hurt by the comment, his head down and not looking anywhere. Alfred mentally punched himself, feeling like he had failed his duty of a hero. He sighed and said, "But… uh… they _do_ look good... on you... ya know, for you… it suits you." He turned his head away, a light pink blush forming on his cheeks.

Arthur brought his head up and gave a good look to check and see if he was truly meaning it. He couldn't possibly… could he? He always got mocked for having such huge eyebrows and the jokes that everyone made. Was someone seriously… complimenting them? Before he could question it though, Alfred coughed into his hand.

"Anyway, back to your problem." Alfred turned to him, eagerly awaiting an answer and still pink. Arthur shook his head and continued.

"Today though… my brothers… they kept telling me I was retarded just because I didn't know what they knew. And… that I'm not a brother to them at all… I know we have different dads, but we have the same mum. I want to get along with them, but it's going to be impossible at this rate…"

Arthur tried to hold back the need to cry, but couldn't hold back sniffling a little. He brought his head down to his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, covering his face. He didn't want a strange kid he just met see him _crying_ of all things. "I know we're only step-brothers, but we're all siblings! We're related whether they like it or not, but I just…" Alfred took a closer look to at Arthur and saw a tear roll down his cheek.

"…. I just want them to like me."

The smile wiped from his face, Alfred looked at the other boy seriously. He gently pried off Arthur's hands to see his eyes red and puffy. Tears were still flowing down his face and his nose was beginning to get runny.

"This would be where I would say you have 'brothersitist' or a 'brother's spat' or some other kind of fake disease, but you're really upset by this, aren't you?" Arthur nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"This is my recommendation to you then." Alfred smiled softly at him. "I have a half-brother too, and though we don't always get along, we are fine. But you should see him! He gets picked on and everything because of how he looks! People call him a girl and treat him badly, so I have to protect him from the bullies, as a hero!"

He then made a dramatic pose with his arms up in the air, of which Arthur tried to hold back a laugh. "So!" Alfred turned back to Arthur, looking straight into his eyes, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I want to protect him. When I get older, I want to become stronger; someone he can call "brother" with respect and knowing that I'll be there for him. Someone to look up to and not get totally embarrassed that he's related to me. I think that's what you need to do too. They might not like you now, but it'll change in time. Become someone they can proudly call their brother, even if you grow up and they still don't like you much."

Arthur was surprised to hear such advice from a kid who had seemed like he lived in an amusement park 24/7. Alfred continued.

"I don't know if my advice will help, but that's all I got. But you got to remember one thing, Arthur." He smiled gently. "Just continue being yourself. Don't change to make your brothers like you, for it'll come in time."

It was a few minutes before either one of them moved. Alfred was beginning to think that maybe his advice hadn't gone over smoothly and that he messed up when Arthur gave a small laugh. Alfred brought his hand back as Arthur wiped his eyes, a small smiling forming on his face.

"For a weird kid, you give good advice."

Alfred flashed him a bright, toothy smile and gave a thumbs up. "Of course!" They each began to laugh a little as Arthur brightened up. There was a moment of silence before Alfred spoke up once more. "Say, I think I gave you such good advice that I deserve a tip?" He took his jar and waved it in front of Arthur again the nickel clinging around.

The smile from Arthur's face fell, now going back to the scowl he had on earlier. "_You git!_ Now you are just boasting! Forget it, I was going to thank you, but seeing how rude you are, I don't think I'll do that at all!"It only took two seconds for Arthur to be back on the sidewalk, heading in the direction he had originally come from. After a few seconds, a voice yelled out behind him.

"_HEY!"_

He turned around and saw Alfred on the sidewalk, not far from his 'shop'. The boy's hands were cupped around his mouth.

"Come back anytime for advice, Artie!"

Alfred excitedly waved to Arthur, who only rolled his eyes and began to walk back home. He was feeling much better than before... Weird, how this kid manage to cheer him up in such little time…

Maybe…_ just maybe_… he might visit him again sometime.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **An idea that popped up in my head that I just had to write out. I might write a second chapter or add on to this one, but for now this is it. I also realized that this is my first ever USUK fanfic oneshot! Even though it's not romantic at all, lol! How strange...

Thank you for reading!

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or anything in relation to it, including the characters. I also don't own Peanuts. All rights for them go back to their respective owners, not me._**


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